She woke up smiling, yawned, stretched, wriggled her toes. What a great morning.
Wait a moment... she was definitely not a morning person. What the heck?
Lttle wisps of dream came floating back through her brain: clean white sheets, strong male hands, clear brown eyes... Oh, okay, Mr. Fantasy was the reason for today's good mood.
She felt her pussy get moist, and desperately scrambled to recall more of that dream. She was underneath him... he was pinning her down, his hands on her wrists, his lips pressed hard against hers. He smelled clean, like soap and aftershave... His mouth moved to one of her breasts, teeth skimming across her tight nipple...
Dammit! The dream was nothing but little snatches of sensation and emotion. Frustrated, but horny as hell, she reached into her nightstand drawer for her favorite bullet with one hand, the other dipping under the covers to comfort her swollen pussy.
Just then, her phone went off, scaring the crap out of her. Fuck, alarm, totally not fair! With a scowl, she switched off the phone, shut the nightstand drawer, and slid out of bed, trying to ignore the urgent throbbing between her thighs. Mr. Fantasy would just have to wait until later, she couldn't be late today.
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She pulled up to a large, warehouse-looking building with ten minutes to spare; early--a first for her! The sign on the front read: Firing Range and Self-Defense/Weapons Training School. "Ready for this?" she muttered to herself.
The building seemed large, and she was worried about getting lost, but she easily followed the signs to where the class was going to be held. The only one in the room was a handsome man, darkly tanned, wearing jean shorts and a T-shirt. He had a holster strapped to his waist, with some sort of gun in it, and he turned to greet her with the sexiest smile she had ever seen.
"Hi, I'm John, and I'm the instructor for this class." He reached out his hand to shake hers, and when they touched, little tingles of electricity shot straight from his fingers to her pussy. She stared into his brown eyes in shock, holding on for a few moments too long, and swore she saw a look of understanding cross over his face. Blushing, she dropped his hand, stammering out her name.
The other five students in the class arrived shortly and they began the first lesson of their six-hour day.
At noon, John called a break for lunch... for everyone except her. "I just want to talk to you for a moment, and then you can join everyone outside," he said.
John half-sat on a table that he'd been using for display purposes. "Come here," he said softly, an odd, firm tone to his voice. She found herself easily responding to it. He reached out, grasped her wrist, pulled her a few inches closer. "You handle yourself well, but I see something in you. I know you."
She blinked at him. What? He did?
"Call me Professor for the rest of the day, understand?"
She stared up at him, suddenly inhaling the fresh, clean, amazingly male scent of him. Her brain flashed back to this morning, her dream... she felt mesmerized...
"Yes, Professor," she whispered.
"Goddammit that's hot," he murmured, standing, pulling her to his side, his hand reaching to twist into her hair and yank her head back. His lips hit hers in a crushing kiss...
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She woke up smiling, yawned, stretched, wriggled her toes. What a great morning!
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